


Birds Eye View

by shelny18



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Tumblr Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette sometimes likes to sit back and observe at Les Amis meetings, and so notices the things everyone else misses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birds Eye View

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nyxierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/gifts).



> Written for the tumblr fic exchange, for user [ Nyxierose. ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose) This was literally the only thing I could think of that included Cosette as well, and the entire thing is her POV.
> 
> Title comes from the fact Cosette is known of as the Lark.

It was two months into their relationship when Cosette finally met Marius’s friends, and it had taken all of five minutes for her to successfully charm them all. Pretty soon she was a regular attender of Les Amis meetings and her boyfriend couldn’t help but feel jealous when she fitted in far better than he ever had, even spending over an hour debating certain political points with Enjolras and leaving their leader musing over her points afterwards, to the point where it took even Grantaire ten minutes to gain his attention.

Sometimes however Cosette liked to sit back in a corner with her head resting on Marius’s shoulder, not actively taking part in the discussion but instead watching everyone silently. Bahorel drew everyone’s attention from the moment he entered the cafe, with his loud voice and boisterous tales, but it was the quieter Feuilly who could consistently draw laughs from her with the titbits he would offer up from his day at work, always followed by a soft smile and perfectly made fan left on her table at some point during the night. Bossuet and Joly never failed to amuse her, Bossuet with whatever injuries and tales of woe he had to share that day and his boyfriend through his panics about the latest ailment to strike, and although there were times when she wondered how Musichetta coped with them both together, the blonde had only to see the fond smile on the other woman’s face to understand perfectly. Courfeyrac and Jehan never ceased to entertain either, with their incessant flirting, and Cosette was the first to realise when their leader and resident cynic finally hooked up, noticing the slight smile on Enjolras’s face when Grantaire interrupted one week and taking careful note of how he replied teasingly instead of snapping like normal, then smirking and leaning back into Marius again later that night when they left bare minutes apart, a rather intense look gracing Enjolras’s face as he followed the drunk. Combeferre had noticed also but said nothing, only sighing as he went back to his writing. He was the least noticeable of all the Amis, Cosette thought, something she felt was a shame in itself for he was by far the most gentlemanly, the most polite and generous, always willing to give his time whenever a friend or sometimes even stranger needed his assistance (a characteristic many of the students were willing to utilise when it came to their studies).

It was Éponine who intrigued Cosette most though, with her sinfully dark eyes and swift glances toward Marius whenever she thought the blonde’s attention was elsewhere. At first Cosette felt jealousy bloom but after a few months she came to an understanding – it was with resignation that she gazed at the couple these days, never the longing which used to blaze in her eyes. Instead the girl stayed near the back of the room every meeting, only coming forth when Grantaire or Courfeyrac called something over, or occasionally to clip her brother round the ear and drag him home to bed.

Cosette hadn’t spoken to Éponine since they were first introduced, hadn’t wanted to when she saw the looks of longing aimed at her boyfriend, but it was the younger woman who noticed first when the brunette started actually working instead of listening to Enjolras, her table covered in books and papers instead of the usual bottles she shared with Grantaire. No-one dared comment, her fiery temper legendary even compared to Enjolras’s, but Cosette continued to watch whenever she wasn’t pointing out flaws in Les Amis’ plans (knowing Javert was useful when it came to knowing what would potentially break laws and piss off the police) and so she noticed when the struggle first started.

After three weeks of Éponine staring blankly at her book and chewing the end of her pencil Cosette was tired of watching in silence. As she stood she reassured Marius that all was fine and headed over to join her, slipping into the seat opposite and watching her silently until finally Éponine glared over at her.

“What?” she snapped. “Come to boast about how perfect your fucking life is, or how you can’t believe how lucky you are to have Marius Pontmercy as a boyfriend?”

“Actually I was going to ask what you’re studying, but I suppose I could always stick a bit of bragging in as well if you’d rather,” Cosette replied coolly, pulling one of the books towards her and feeling a brief flash of success that Éponine didn’t simply pull it straight away again.

“Maths and physics,” she said reluctantly, caution now in her eyes as she watched the blonde flick through the book. “I want to do engineering.”

“Which bit are you struggling with?”

“Who says I’m struggling?” Éponine retorted, instantly defensive.

“The fact you’ve been sat back here without writing anything for the past hour kind of made it obvious,” the blonde told her. “So?”

“Maths,” Éponine whispered. “I understand the physics, I just can’t get the maths to make sense inside my head. Well, the mechanics yes, but not the pure stuff.”

Cosette sighed. “Ah. I hate maths as well so I’m afraid I can’t help there.”

“Wait, there’s something the perfect Cosette cannot do?” She simply had to raise one pale eyebrow at Éponine and the other girl flushed slightly, knowing her words were uncalled for (even if Marius had made out Cosette was some sort of perfect angel whenever he spoke of his girlfriend, to the point where almost all of the friends had forbidden him ever to speak of her). After all, Cosette hadn’t known of Éponine’s feelings when she started dating Marius, they’d never even met then. “Not my fault you kinda arrived and took over in nought point two seconds,” she muttered, glancing away.

“Ask Combeferre,” Cosette suggested as she stood and left.

* * *

It took Éponine a week to finally take the advice but eventually Cosette noticed Combeferre check his phone and instantly look over at Éponine’s table with surprise before making his way over. Cosette couldn’t help the little thrill of triumph that flared up inside as she made her way over to the bar and heard him ask what help she needed and her reply that maths made no sense whatsoever, the medical student instantly taking the spare seat and pulling her textbook towards him, pen already in his hand as he started to explain.

From that night Combeferre was always set up at his own table when Cosette and Marius arrived, and would stay there throughout the meeting, always on hand with any data Enjolras needed for his speech that night or a quick roll of his eyes when Grantaire arrived late and disturbed them all only to be greeted by a fond chiding from the blonde leader and an unspoken promise of later shown clearly in pale blue eyes. Once the meeting was over however and the friends descended into their usual boisterous and teasing conversations he would pack everything away and migrate to the small table in the back corner, smiling at Éponine as they greeted each other and she pulled out her work for that week.

After two months of this the brunette made her way over to Cosette and quietly took the seat next to her. Cosette knew the only reason she was there was that Marius wasn’t but she refused to comment on this fact, not wanting to annoy the other girl.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, turning to face Cosette, words coming out quicker than she’d planned, probably to make sure she actually said them at all. Éponine wasn’t known for showing her emotions to people she didn’t know well. “Because I knew he could help, but I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to admit I was struggling. I mean, these guys forget I’m younger than them, they forget I’m only at college, and I don’t want them remembering in case it makes them treat me differently.”

“They wouldn’t,” Cosette told her quietly. “Most of them are university students. The eldest here are Feuilly and Bossuet at twenty-six, yet they never treat anyone differently because they’re younger than them. And Jehan’s only a year older than you, not that you’d think it to look at him with these guys. Or you. You’re one of them, they won’t treat you differently. We wouldn’t let them.” Both knew intuitively that she referred to Combeferre in the “we”. Cosette watched Éponine for a few minutes as they sat in companionable silence before making her offer. “Join me for tea tomorrow. Or coffee, whichever you prefer. I know a lovely little café, and as two of the only three girls I feel we should band together a little, make sure the guys never get the chance to gang up on us.” She grinned and it was the grin which won Éponine over, a grin which promised fun and evil yet still suiting her round face perfectly. It took away the innocence which had initially annoyed Éponine so much and instantly made her like the blonde even more.

“Sure,” she agreed with a matching grin, Courfeyrac slowing by their table and slowly looking from one to the other.

“Good God but don’t you both just look terrifying together,” he laughed, beaming at them. “I dread to think what you might be plotting together, but I hope it’s nothing to do with me.”

“You’ll find out,” Éponine smirked, making him shudder lightly.

“My dears, I promise you now you are never to be messed with.” And with that he moved on, leaving them both to glance at the other and burst out laughing.

“We would probably make a terrifying team,” Cosette giggled finally, before managing to calm herself down and regain her mature, ladylike attitude normally presented in public.

“Oh definitely,” Éponine smiled, a true smile of friendship, the first she’d offered to anyone in what felt like years. At least, to anyone not getting her drunk. It was tentative, yes, but it was there, and that was all that mattered to Cosette.

* * *

As the weeks passed by the two started meeting more and more regularly until finally they were seeing each other almost every day, closer friends than even Feuilly and Bahorel (though it had long since been decided that no friendship could ever even come close to beating that of Les Amis’ main trio, and not simply because they’d lived together for three years). It took a while but eventually Éponine sat with Cosette whether she was alone or with Marius, and many a week he would sigh and move to sit with Courfeyrac rather than listen to the pair laugh and gossip together about everyone and everything.

About an hour after Enjolras had finally given up on an overly-rowdy meeting and let himself be dragged off to sit with his boyfriend, Cosette asked the question which had been on her mind for a while.

“So how are you doing with the maths these days? Only you haven’t asked ‘Ferre for help for a while.” To her surprise Éponine blushed bright red.

“I, uh, yeah. It’s doing okay,” she muttered. The quick look she gave Combeferre from the corner of her eye told Cosette much more than her words ever could and the blonde smiled.

“Ah. So it’s like that.”

“Not at all!” Éponine protested, but she sighed and backed down when Cosette gave her a knowing look, admitting, “Maybe a little.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she was told firmly. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because it’s Combeferre,” Éponine said in a ‘duh’ tone, as if it should be obvious. “And I’m me. We wouldn’t go.”

“Enjolras and Grantaire go.”

“They’re different,” she dismissed instantly. “I mean, you’ve only seen half their relationship. They’ve argued since the moment they met, and the only reason Grantaire kept coming back was because he was in love with Enjolras. They’re two sides of the same coin pretty much. Enjolras stops Grantaire from self-destructing too much, and ‘Taire keeps Enjolras human and grounded, as well as helping improve his points through their arguments. They’re fucking perfect for each other.

“Now me and ‘Ferre… He’s clever and serious, kind and generous, loving and friendly. He’s pretty much the perfect boyfriend, except he doesn’t date. Ever. Well, maybe occasionally if Courf is to be believed, but he never brings them here. And let’s be honest, any girl would be lucky to have him. Why would he choose me? I’m nothing special. I’m basically the charity case of the group, the kid they let in because I’m one of those they’re trying to save, the girl who lived on the streets for three years because my parents are abusive arseholes, the wannabe engineer who can’t even manage A-level maths without help. No Cosette, I’m not telling him. I have at least some dignity, and I refuse to lose it by confessing to feelings he doesn’t return.” Glancing down at her watch, Éponine stood and flashed her friend a quick smile. “I gotta go, my bar shift starts in fifteen. I’ll see you ‘round.”

Cosette disagreed with most of what Éponine had said but she didn’t argue, just smiled as she was left to her thoughts.

* * *

Over the next few meetings she spent her time watching the medical student carefully, making sure her observations were never noticed, always making sure to pay him no attention when with Éponine, but enough that certain things became obvious to her. The way he’d glance over at Éponine whenever she moved or spoke, even if he’d ignored every other person that night. The hint of jealousy in his eyes when she asked Joly for help with a question instead of him. The appreciation which flashed across his face the night Grantaire got her drunk and she followed through on Courfeyrac’s dare to dance teasingly on one of the tables, before he seemed to realise he was staring and shook his head quickly, turning back to his work. All these and more passed unnoticed by most people but not Cosette.

“Tell him,” she urged Éponine one night as they left the café, glancing over at where Combeferre was chatting to Jehan, smiling at whatever tale the poet was imparting. “If you don’t tell him, you’ll never know what might happen.”

“I can imagine perfectly well,” Éponine replied, refusing to even look at him. “No.”

Cosette knew nothing she could say would change the other girl’s mind so let the subject be.

The next night she surprised them all by going and taking a seat at Grantaire’s table after the meeting, not missing the mildly annoyed scowl which flashed across Enjolras’s face when he realised he couldn’t join his boyfriend straight away.

“Can I help?” Grantaire asked curiously, one eyebrow quirked up at her in the way she knew infuriated Enjolras (if only because he couldn’t manage the trick himself).

“How did you ask Enjolras out?” she asked smoothly. His other eyebrow shot up to join its partner at that.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I have a stubborn friend who believes they’re not good enough for the man they like,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t dig any further. She didn’t want to out Éponine’s crush to anyone, just in case it didn’t work out (though she doubted Combeferre would say no). The knowing look in his eyes however told her she hadn’t fooled him one bit.

“I didn’t. He asked me out. Gasp shock horror, I know, but that’s how it happened.” Pausing, he glanced round to make sure no-one else was listening. “Look, would this friend happen to be a mutual one?”

“It’s possible.”

Grantaire grinned, his teeth a sudden flash of white against the dark tan he’d picked up. “Then I wish you luck. She can be very stubborn.”

Cosette simply raised one eyebrow at him, making the artist grin even more. “Actually I think I have a plan. How easily can you get hold of Enjolras’s phone?”

“I may die, but it can be attempted I think. Why?”

Quietly she informed him of her plan, liking the evil smirk which slowly replaced the grin on his face.

“My dear Cosette, I think I could grow to quite like you.”

* * *

The plan was simple. As soon as her phone beeped and she saw the text was from Enjolras Cosette messaged Éponine.

**Cosette:** _Hey, was planning on meeting Jehan and Feuilly for coffee in an hour. Want to join us?_

The reply was almost instantaneous.

**Éponine:** _Yeah, at the Musain right? I’ll be there. :)_

After shooting off a quick affirmative, Cosette messaged Grantaire to let him know all was going to plan then set off for the Musain. Just because she knew her plan was going to work didn’t mean she didn’t want to watch the pieces fall into place.

* * *

Cosette had to admit that she did feel a little foolish hiding behind the bar but she daren’t move, mainly because she could hear footsteps on the stairs but also due to the fact that she was perfectly hidden from view but could still just about see most of the tables in the room. Combeferre entered the room first, sighing when he saw it was empty then sitting down at his usual table, instantly pulling his notebook out for whilst he waited. Éponine was barely minutes behind him, glancing round the room and stopping when she saw him.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work, only Cosette said she was meeting Jehan and Feuilly here and invited me to join them.”

Combeferre frowned. “That’s strange, because I thought Courfeyrac was meeting Jehan this afternoon only according to Enjolras he’s meeting us here, and I know for a fact Feuilly is working till six. Though thinking about it, Enjolras should be here. He’s never late.”

“Maybe Grantaire distracted him,” Éponine suggested. “And I guess Cosette just got confused with her days. I’ll let you wait for Enjolras in peace.”

“Wait!” Combeferre said quickly, half-rising from his seat as Éponine turned back towards him. “Why don’t you join me?” he offered quietly, indicating the chair next to him. “I mean, we both have drinks, and if Grantaire is distracting Enjolras there’s no chance of us meeting today. We may as well drink our coffees together instead of both being sat alone. Besides.” He almost went shy then, or at least as shy as it was possible for the ever-composed Combeferre to be. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent any time together. It’d be nice to talk again.”

Éponine said nothing at first but sat down, smiling at him as she did so. “Agreed,” she murmured. “How have you been?”

“Busy. Yourself?”

Their conversation continued like this for a while, neither daring to move away from the safe topics, until finally Combeferre sighed, muttered “Stuff it” and, leaning forwards, kissed Éponine quickly and chastely. He sighed again when he pulled back, noticing the shocked look on her face. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve fucked up haven’t I? I shouldn’t have done it but you just gave me that look and I couldn’t take it anymore and dammit Éponine I’ve wanted to do that for six months now I just didn’t want to ruin anything between us when we were finally becoming friends and-“

He was cut off by Éponine kissing him again, the kiss this time deepening instantly, his fingers threading in her hair as he pulled her closer, against him, into his lap, holding her there until they parted, gasping for breath and foreheads resting together.

“Shut up,” Éponine breathed against his lips, her own turned up in a half-smile. “For someone normally so good at words, that sentence was grammatically terrible,” she teased, kissing him again before moving back onto her own chair again, though their hands stayed firmly linked. Cosette beamed to see this, pleased that her plan had worked so well.

“Do you want to go out tomorrow, after the meeting?” Combeferre asked finally, after a few minutes of surprisingly non-awkward silence. “Only Cosette mentioned you wanting to see the sci-fi that came out at the cinema last weekend, and I was wondering if you’d like some company.”

“I’d love some,” she smiled.

* * *

“It worked perfectly,” Cosette murmured as she passed Grantaire, a self-satisfied smile present on her normally innocent face. Her words were backed up moments later by the couple in question entering the room hand-in-hand, both lost in conversation as they made their way to Combeferre’s table. They remained there for the meeting, his arm resting lightly round her back and her head leaning against his shoulders, but when Enjolras had finished speaking and everyone turned as one to congratulate them, they found both shrugging on coats and leaving, Éponine laughing at a comment her boyfriend had made.

“When did that happen?” Courfeyrac demanded, hardly able to believe he hadn’t noticed one of his best friends falling in love.

“Ask Cosette,” Grantaire laughed, leaning back in his chair and tangling his fingers with Enjolras as the blonde perched beside him, tugging him closer until he was practically lying across his lap, a smile on his face instead of the annoyed expression they would have normally expected to see. “She was the mastermind.”

Grinning evilly, Cosette passed on the tale, the artist chipping in occasionally with his own parts, such as stealing Enjolras’s phone to get Combeferre there (making the student raise his eyebrow and Grantaire mutter a quick curse under his breath). When she’d finished everyone congratulated her, and Feuilly spoke the words they were all thinking.

“You really are rather wonderful and rather terrifying at the same time. God help Marius.”

* * *

The wedding had gone as smoothly as could be expected to say Les Amis were present, but Cosette still noticed the flash of fear cross both bride and groom’s faces as speeches were announced. Enjolras had glared Courfeyrac down when he tried to give the first best man’s speech (no-one had been surprised when both had been chosen for the role) and the blonde’s started as stiff and awkward as all had expected. For a man so expert at weaving words together he still did not understand people and emotions, and it took Grantaire smirking at him from across the room for Enjolras to give up on what he’d written and just speak, the depth of his feeling for one of the men who were practically his brothers finally showing through.

Courfeyrac’s speech could not have been more different from the one it followed. Where Enjolras had spoken of both their good points, a couple of memories and how he wished them all the best, Courfeyrac jumped straight into the embarrassing stories, simply smirking at Combeferre when he tried to protest the telling of a particular night before continuing.

“This is why we had a quiet affair of friends over,” Cosette laughed once he’d finished, standing and smiling down at both Éponine and Combeferre. “As the pregnant matron-of-honour I refuse to talk for long because I cannot stand for long, but there is one thing at least must be included in this speech, other than the toast of course. You’ve all heard it, but they haven’t.” She proceeded to retell the true story behind their meeting three years ago, how she’d made sure they’d meet alone and had been so thankful when they’d sorted themselves out instead of continuing to dance round each other awkwardly. “Because it was driving me up the wall,” she informed them. “So, here’s to you. The happy couple. May you live happily ever after, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill.”

“Grantaire, one Disney quote and I am throwing you out,” Éponine warned as she saw his mouth open.

“I can see what’s happening, and they don’t have a clue! They’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom li- Arhgh!” Courfeyrac announced loudly, jumping to his feet only to be tackled to the floor moments later by Bahorel. “Enjolras!” he practically screeched. “Help me!”

“I think it’s time to leave,” Combeferre murmured in his wife’s ear, one hand already under her elbow as they stood as one. They managed to escape the room practically unnoticed, with only Cosette moving her attention away from the wrestling match for a moment to watch them leave.

_‘They’ll be fine,’_ she thought happily, smiling contentedly as she leant back against her own husband, his arm automatically reaching round to rest against her stomach. _‘We’ll all be fine.’_


End file.
